


Sober Apologies

by whatTheFuckIsThis



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Drug Use, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24113089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatTheFuckIsThis/pseuds/whatTheFuckIsThis
Summary: After Constantine gets Behrad killed and after Zari yells at him in the med bay, he goes to Nate to apologize for getting his best friend killed. Nate yells at him, has a bit of a breakdown, and John helps him through it.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 12





	Sober Apologies

_I’m not letting you out of my sight,_ Zari said to John. He drifted off to those words, helped along by the massive dose of pain meds Gideon gave him. When he woke up, his arms were stiff and he was alone. It was two in the morning, Gideon responded when asked.

He flexed his arms and rolled back his shoulders to get rid of the tension from sleeping in an uncomfortable medical chair. Stretching didn’t work so he reached for a chemical solution, feeling in his coat pocket for his familiar flask that wasn’t there anymore. He frantically patted his pants and coat and even the space between his sock and his calf with no luck. He scanned the floor underneath the chair but found only a single crushed cigarette.

“Fuck.” Sara had confiscated his last pack of cigarettes, saying something about his health and all that shit. He’d convinced her to let him have one last cigarette, but it seemed his luck was as good as his lungs were healthy.

He couldn’t deal with being sober right now. There were too many things to do and too many people to apologize to. Trying to sleep without drinking himself into a coma would be a waste of time. So, he staggered towards the galley in search of something that would shut up the nagging voice in his head.

“Ms. Tarazi took your flask. She instructed me to tell you you’ll get it back once you bring back her brother,” Gideon told him as he entered the darkened room. “You should also know-“

“Shut up, love, and pour me a whiskey,” he said. He stuck a clean-looking mug in the food fabricator. A dark liquid poured out. He lifted the mug to his lips desperately like the drunk he was, took a sip, and promptly spat it out across the floor. “What the fuck is this?”

“As I was saying, Ms. Tarazi also revoked your alcohol privileges in my system until you save her brother. This is tea.”

“I hate this place.” He slammed the mug down on the nearest table. The liquid splashed across his hand and stained his coat, but the mug refused to break. He sighed and asked as he looked at the bottom of the mug, “Is Nate still up?”

Gideon didn’t respond.

Great, even the computer was pissed at him. He should’ve just gone to bed, his bed, but he knew the apology would only be harder to get out in the morning. So, he took Gideon’s silence as a yes and slumped off to Nate’s quarters. He knocked softly on the door, not wanting to wake up anyone else this late.

Nate opened the door, shirtless and visibly exhausted.

“Oh,” he said. Even in the faint glow of the hallway lights, John could see pillow lines on his face and his bloodshot eyes. “Can we do whatever this is in the morning, man? I’ve had enough magic crap for one day.”

“I just came to apologize mate,” John said in a quiet voice that shook at the edges.

Nate laughed and waved John into his dark room. He walked over to his nightstand and switched on a lamp and then took a seat on his unmade bed.

“This’ll be fun.”

His room stunk of weed and John saw Behrad’s stash box poking out from underneath the bed. A joint sat on the nightstand, still smoking, and Nate took a hit as he waited for John to start. He didn’t offer it to John and John knew that asking would only lead to more problems.

“I’m sorry Nate I never meant for any of you to get hurt. If Charlie had-“

“Wrong,” Nate blurted out as a cloud of smoke left his lips. “Start over. Less blame-y this time.”

John sighed and took a moment to gather his thoughts. After all his screw ups with Legends and everyone else in his life, he should have been better at this part. If Nate wanted him to take all the blame for his dead friend, the least John could do was try to sound convincing.

“I never meant for any of you to get caught in the crossfire.”

“Just like you never meant for your demon ex-boyfriend to manipulate and murder my dad just as I was starting to like him,” Nate mocked with a smile. Only a hint of bitterness in his voice gave away his true feelings.

“Yeah, mate. Just like that.” Maybe John should’ve waited ‘til the morning. Although he didn’t know if Nate would be any less hostile, or if John would just be more willing to put up with his petty shit.

Nate took another hit and held it in like he was seeing how long he could hold in his breath. He coughed out a small cloud and pounded on his chest a few times to get his throat clear.

“You know,” he coughed out, “if B was here he wouldn’t’ve let me choke on that.”

John rolled his eyes. “Not that I have any room to judge anyone’s drug use, but maybe you should slow down a little with that.”

Nate stood up and got in John’s face. “And maybe you should fuck off, magic man,” he said, poking John in the chest twice for emphasis. Up close, John could smell the beer on his breath and the stink of someone who’d spent too long in bed. John wondered when he’d last time left his room or changed his clothes. Nate fell back down on his bed with a thud. “You don’t get to judge me after what you’ve done. I still haven’t heard an apology.” 

“I’m sorry, Nate,” He said as genuinely as he could muster. “I’m sorry that Behrad got killed. We’ll get him back. I swear on it, I’ll get him back unharmed.” John knew he had a habit of over-promising, but he couldn’t help himself. To have any chance of getting the loom together and working, he needed Nate to not be pissed at him in the morning.

“I fucked up, I should’ve listened to Charlie and to all of you. It’s just that, Astra was one of my first mistakes and maybe if I could fix that, I could fix everything else I fucked up. I have to have that loom to do that.”

“That’s the thing ole’ Johnny boy,” Nate said in a mocking British accent. He huffed out a laugh and continued in his regular voice. “Life doesn’t work that way. You can’t keep using magic to fix everything. Your dumb decisions have consequences. Consequences. Con-se-quen-ces. Grow up, Johnny boy.” Nate took another puff and repeated the nickname to himself and then laughed. His chuckling turned into roaring laughter and roaring quickly turned into sobbing and shaking.

As he stood there watching Nate, John had the sudden realization that he hadn’t seen Nate cry since before Heyworld. His dad had been murdered by a demon who wanted to enslave all of humanity. He died and was brought back to life. One of his best friends left him to settle down with a witch. And his other best friend was dead at the hands of a mass-murdering god.

Ray would have hugged Nate nice and tight and let him sob into his polo shirt until it was two shades darker. Behrad would have distracted him with video games and snacks and something more intimate. The kind of intimacy that John couldn’t give him. Even Zari would’ve been more comforting and they were practically strangers.

John sat down next to Nate, one leg hanging over the edge of the bed and one folded under him. Nate looked at him. If he could speak without choking, John knew he would’ve spat every curse he knew at the warlock. John took a handkerchief out of his coat pocket and wiped away Nate’s tears. His face softened, more out of exhaustion than forgiveness, and he slowly leaned into John’s chest. He wrapped his arms around the bigger man and sat there, his body shaking right along with Nate’s. It was poor stand-in for what Nate was missing but it was all he could offer.

They stayed like that for a few minutes until Nate’s tears dried up and his exhaustion completely over took him. John started to pull away but Nate pulled him back by his collar.

“Mate, you need to get some sleep,” He spoke softly into the other man’s ear. “And I need to get back to-”

Nate whined in protest. Under different circumstances, John would’ve found such a small noise from such a big guy unbearably cute. Nate whispered, barely loud enough for John to hear, “Stay, just for a few more hours. I just need someone…”

John hummed and nodded slightly. Without any more protest, he helped Nate get under the covers and then took off his boots, his stained coat, and his wet shirt and left them in a pile on the floor. He snuffed out what was left of the joint, turned off the light, and crawled into bed. He hesitantly wrapped one arm around the barely-wake Nate who moved to burrow his face into John’s chest with a contented sigh.

“I’m glad you’re here, B. I’d thought I lost you.” John felt Nate’s words more than he heard them. “I love you, man.”

John let the words hang in the air for a few quiet seconds. He responded by hugging Nate tighter and letting out a long, tired sigh. Let Nate believe whatever he needed, just for tonight. Tomorrow, he could go back to hating John until Behrad was saved and maybe even after that. Tonight, he was just helping a friend who had been hurt too many times in too few years.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought it would be fun to show how Behrad's death affects Nate and actually let him have an emotion that isn't horny this season. Plus, give him a chance to say fuck a bunch of times.
> 
> Let me know what you think.


End file.
